


Involuntary Ties

by TimmyJaybird



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus, FtM Tim, M/M, Trans Character, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-25
Updated: 2017-02-25
Packaged: 2018-09-26 14:17:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9903443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TimmyJaybird/pseuds/TimmyJaybird
Summary: Tim invites Damian to crash on his couch for the night, and quickly expects their night to go to nothing but bickering. Good thing that Damian is weak and pretty, and Tim doesn't mind either.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of an art trade with the awesome [Dean](https://twitter.com/bittermelonbabs)! [I was given this awesome (and super NSFW) DamiColi art](https://twitter.com/bittermelonbabs/status/834580196082712577)!

“And another thing,” Damian said, standing in Tim’s living room like he  _ owned _ it. “Had you responded twenty seconds sooner, we would have minimized damage to not only the building but the cars on the street. That’s a lot of money in insurance claims, Drake.”

 

Tim took in a deep breath. He held it, he counted to five, he let it out. He should have  _ known _ bringing Damian home with him was a bad idea. He should have known the kid wouldn’t  _ shut the hell up _ for more than thirty seconds. But it was late and they were  _ tired _ , and the Manor was a long ways off. And sure, Damian had safe houses, but the offer had been out of Tim’s mouth before he could stop himself.

 

“Listen,” Tim said, turning. He had various parts of his suit off, cape, gloves, utility belts. His mask was chucked on top of all of it, and he figured he’d just take care of it in the morning. Right then, he just wanted to lose the  _ Red Robin _ skin and crawl into bed. He had hoped Damian would feel the same, might give him some peace until he woke up in the morning and complained that all Tim had to eat were Pop-Tarts and frozen waffles, and too much coffee. “I got there when I got there, if I could’ve been there sooner I would have. I was clear across the city.”

 

Tim worked on the zipper to his suit, sliding it open. The tank top and sports bra beneath left his chest a little sore, and he just wanted to let his flesh breathe. The binder left on top of his laundry from his  _ day job _ had been enough compression for one day, if he was honest.

 

“And it should have taken you three less minutes to get to my location.” Damian folded his arms, making no move to lose anymore of his suit beyond his mask. He shrugged a shoulder. “Perhaps we should discuss your mapping of the city. I can teach you the best ways to cross it.”

 

Tim gritted his teeth. Told himself to take another breath, as he clawed at the hem of his sports bra, tugging it down a little, trying to get a little extra space. The movement snapped the strap from it’s clip in the back, and inwardly he cursed, because he  _ hated _ when that thing just dangled against his shoulder and arm.

 

“I know this city better than you,” Tim said. “I grew  _ up _ here.”

 

“-tt- it does not show.” Damian lifted his chin, and it was  _ sneer _ on that stupidly handsome face he’d grown into. Not that Tim would admit it was handsome. Ever.

 

Well, ever to anyone  _ else _ .

 

“You know what,” Tim said, having  _ had it _ so far beyond his limits now. He was being nice and Damian was being a brat, and he knew he shouldn’t be shocked. “If you’re going to just bitch me out all night, you can go the fuck home.” He jerked his arm out, pointed at Damian, leaning forward as he did so. “I offered you a place to crash because I’m  _ nice _ , not because I wanted a lecture and to let you stroke your little ego.” He shook his head, hair flying around his face, sticking to his neck. “So either shut up and get on the damn couch for the night, or fly on home and bitch this out to your  _ dog _ .”

 

Tim paused when he was done, chest heaving a breath because he had forgotten to breathe for a moment. And Damian… was just staring. Had his lips parted and was just looking at Tim with eyes that were a little too big, too distracted. Tim furrowed his brow,  _ confused _ , before Damian dragged his eyes up to the ceiling, folding his arms tighter, like he was trying to disappear into himself.

 

“You…. your- Drake your…” He swallowed, unfolded simply to wave his hand. Tim glanced down, gave a little groan because the snapped strap of his sports bra and all that movement had freed one of his breasts. He felt his cheeks heating up and turned quickly, kept his back to Damian as he tucked himself securely away.

 

This night was absolutely not going as planned.

 

“I think that’s a sign we’re done,” Tim said, stooping down and gathering up the parts of his suit. “The couch is yours if you want it. There’s a closet down the hall with some extra pillows and blankets, up top over the towels.”

 

Tim didn’t bother to look at Damian, just hurried for his room, shut the door with his foot. He let his armful of gear simply fall to the ground, leaned against the door and sighed, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

 

Real terrifying,  _ real menacing _ . He tried to put the kid in his damn place and he had a  _ wardrobe malfunction _ . It couldn’t have been more perfect and pathetic if it had been planned.

 

He shook his head, figured whatever, Damian would forget it by morning. Wasn’t like the family hadn’t all been nake done too many times in the showers or in the Cave.  _ Some _ folks, who shouldn’t be named-  _ Dick _ \- didn’t seem to think prancing around in a towel or  _ not _ after a shower was anything but acceptable.

 

Tim set his mind and hands to stripping the rest of his suit off. It took time to peel away, but when he was free it was a feeling of relief. He stripped completely naked, left everything in a heap and headed to his dresser, rummaging around. A fresh tank top- binding free, and  _ god _ did that feel good- and a pair of boy shorts, and he was ready to crawl into bed and sleep until the afternoon.

 

He was pulling his blanket back, however, when he started to feel a little  _ bad _ about leaving Damian like that. Annoying or not, he couldn’t just leave him to sleep on his couch with that spare blanket.

 

Tim sighed at himself, leaving his bed and moving to the door, pulling it open. “Damian?” he called, “Do you need anything? I might have a pair of Dick’s sweats here you can wear, and I have more pillows.” He leaned out of the doorway, caught Damian folding his cape neatly, his boots settled next to the touch. His tunic, gloves, belt were all neatly piled on the floor, leaving him in just those leggings.

 

For a single moment, Tim let himself  _ enjoy _ that. Because Damian was all dark skin and eyes like his mother, broad shoulders and hands like  _ Bruce _ , and yeah, two  _ obscenely _ attractive people had created one too gorgeous for his own good- but again, Tim would never admit that.

 

Tim noticed Damian hadn’t anything from the closet, and took it upon himself to walk past him, into the little hallway. He opened the closet, pulled out one of the folded blankets, the few pillows, balanced it all as he shut the door with his foot and walked back. He toppled everything onto the couch, arranging the pillows, aware that Damian was watching him. Those eyes were like a jeweled fire burning into him, and he could only think that he was still fired up, wanted to continue berating Tim as he had been earlier.

 

Tim paused, glanced up through the hair falling into his face. He met Damian’s stare for a moment, before Damian was averting his eyes. Tim huffed, exhaled and blew some of the hair from his face.

 

“I fall out of my shirt again?” he asked, glancing down, but not missing the way that made Damian blush. And that was doing too much to make Tim think that maybe,  _ just maybe _ , Damian didn’t want to  _ fight _ .

 

That was a dangerous thought.

 

“So, Dick’s sweats,” Tim said, trying to draw Damian back, “want ‘em?” Damian nodded, and Tim straightened up, walked past him, this time staying close, instead of going around the couch, heading back to his room. He found them stuffed into a drawer, came back and couldn’t help but notice the way Damian’s eyes kept flicking down to his hips, watching their subtle sway.

 

And Tim shouldn’t push at this. He should go to bed, crawl under his blanket, slid his hand down his underwear if he really needed release that badly, and call it a night. Don’t play with someone with  _ teeth _ like Damian- but the prospect almost made him shiver. He fought it back down, holding the clothing out, watching Damian take it from him. He waited a moment, and when Damian didn’t move to finish changing, he sighed.

 

“Don’t tell me you need a hand?” he asked, stepping a little closer, reaching out and actually touching Damian, pressing fingertips to the warm skin at the hem of his leggings. And maybe in the morning he could consider this a bad idea- but he was tired, and he could use a little  _ intimacy _ in the most carnal ways.

 

Damian’s breath hitched, and Tim’s fingers moved to the lacing that helped hold the leggings shut. Not practical at all, but it had a  _ look _ Damian liked- and maybe a bit of Bruce’s vanity had been bred into him.  _ Only a bit _ .

 

Tim’s fingers moved lazily, untying the lacing and then loosening it. Damian  _ dropped _ the sweatpants when Tim gave it all a little tug, got a deeper glimpse of the crease of muscle that lead from Damian’s hips down his pelvis. “You’re oddly quiet,” Tim mumbled, pushing them just a little lower. Damian opened his mouth, before quickly clamping it shut, speechless.

 

Tim could use that, could  _ get _ used to it.

 

He let his hands trail up Damian’s stomach, fingertips scratching at scarred skin, felt the way Damian’s arms twitched before they lifted, his hands finding Tim’s waist. Tim hummed, could feel how  _ hot _ Damian’s hands were, despite his tank top. He moved his hands back, held them over Damian’s and carefully slid them up higher and  _ higher, _ until they skimmed the side of his breasts.

 

There was a tremble, in Damian’s fingertips. Tim smiled, bemused because  _ oh _ , it was fun to see the babybat seem so clueless. But after a moment Damian’s hands moved on their own, got between their bodies and cupped the flesh, like Tim’s hands guiding him had given him the  _ nerve _ to touch.

 

Tim sighed, felt Damian squeezing. “Gentle,” he warned, felt the pressure lessen. “Binding all day leaves you  _ tender _ .” Damian nodded, staring down at the way his hands seemed huge on Tim, at the subtle movements of flesh as he massaged his chest through his tank top. Tim hummed, felt his nipples perking up against the fabric and Damian’s palms. From the little breath Damian gave, he felt it too.

 

Tim smirked, took a step back from Damian, another, until he could fall down onto the couch, sprawling out comfortably. Damian eyed him, as Tim reached up, traced the neckline of his tank top.

 

“You wanna play babybat?” he asked, already knowing the answer. And he was more than  _ happy _ to pin this on Damian, to still be able to hold that he hadn’t  _ broken _ because the kid grew up gorgeous. Damian nodded, slowly, and Tim lifted his other hand, curled his fingers, calling closer. “Come here.”

 

Damian stepped forward, between Tim’s splayed legs. Carefully he got down, on his knees, and Tim almost shivered. That was a sight he didn’t mind at all. Damian leaned over, braced one hand on the back of the couch next to Tim’s head, was pushed right up against the cushion he was sitting on. “Can I kiss you?”

 

Tim wasn’t sure he could  _ handle _ Damian being sweet enough to ask. Or handle the fact that he had just referred to Damian as  _ sweet _ .

 

Tim nodded, and Damian leaned in, tilted his head and let his eyes flick down to Tim’s lips, before kissing him. It was softer than Tim expected from him, almost tentative- and Tim almost wanted to tease him, ask how many people he’d actually even  _ kissed _ in his life. But he was distracted because his lips were so warm, and when Tim pushed, Damian pushed back harder, took the challenge.

 

Tim liked that. He liked a little fight.

 

He hooked one arm around Damian’s shoulders, held tight as he dragged his tongue along his lips. Damian groaned, opened up and let Tim’s tongue slide in. Tim felt the points of his teeth, before pinning Damian’s own tongue down, got the younger to suck at him and make his hips almost buck up. Tim dug his blunt nails into Damian’s shoulder, holding tight as the other reached down between them, gripped the neckline of his tank top and jerked it down. His breasts spilled free and he left it pooled under them, breaking the kiss to tip his head back.

 

“Warm me up,” he whispered, and Damian dipped his head to his neck, kissed down along his pulse. He nuzzled the crook of it, his hand leaving the couch cushion, moving to grasp at Tim’s waist and hold on tightly. His kissed over his collar bone, down the gentle slope of flesh. Tim tipped his head back when Damian kissed one nipple, before he felt his tongue flick against it. The hand not on his waist moved to his bare thigh, sliding up it-

 

And Tim reach down, grasping it and keeping it firmly mid thigh.

 

“Not yet,” he whispered, “I said warm me up. I  _ meant _ it.”

 

“-tt-” Damian glanced away, a bit of color to his cheeks. “...How?” he finally asked.

 

“Really?” Damian nodded, and Tim hummed, reaching up, sliding his fingers along his cheek. For a moment Damian’s eyelids fluttered over the affection, and Tim ignored the little light in his chest over that. Instead he traced his thumb over Damian’s lips, until his mouth was open. Tim leaned forward then, and Damian took the hint, released his thumb and closed his lips over one nipple instead. He rolled his tongue over it, slowly, over and over again, had Tim sighing, bare toes curling against the floor. “ _ Like that _ ,” he whispered. Damian’s hand slid up his waist, moved to cup his other breast, gave it a shockingly gentle squeeze before his thumb was mimicking his tongue. Tim gasped, reaching for Damian’s hair, carding his fingers back through the thick, longer bits on top.

 

He could feel himself reacting, could feel himself getting wet. And when Damian’s teeth gently scraped over one nipple, Tim groaned, letting his head fall back. He didn’t stop him, almost couldn’t believe he could be gentle this long. But his hand was warm, made Tim feel small, was soothing in more ways than Tim wanted to admit.

 

Without thinking, he spread his legs a little wider. Damian finally pulled his mouth from his one nipple, leaving it swollen, darker and wet- but instead of moving his hand like Tim figured he would, by the silent invitation, he moved to the other, got his mouth around the bud and sucked gently. Tim bit his lip, sliding his fingers back through Damian’s hair again, scratching his nails along his scalp.

 

“Good… good job…” he managed, and he  _ felt _ Damian’s hips buck at that, grinding into the cushion. He might have smiled, if he could keep his mouth close enough for it- but he was panting lightly now, quickly plummeting into his arousal as Damian nipped at his nipple, made him gasp sharply.

 

When the hand on his thigh still didn’t move, Tim pushed it towards his groin. Damian followed the movement until he was pushing right between Tim’s thighs. Tim groaned, bucking towards his hand, feeling like the thin cotton fabric separating his cunt from Damian’s fingers was going to  _ kill  _ him.

 

Tim reached down, fumbling at the waist of his boyshorts. He had to dislodge himself from Damian’s mouth- which was a  _ crime _ as far as he was concerned- but he managed to get the fabric down his hips, get lifted enough that it could be pulled down his ass. Damian took over, grasped the fabric and slid back, guiding it down Tim’s thighs, then off his legs. He left them on the floor, before he was back, getting his warm hands on Tim’s thighs and spreading them wider, until Tim’s hips ached.

 

Tim smirked, reached down and slid his fingers along his own lips, all the way up into the thatch of dark hair at his groin, before moving them back down. And Damian, he was watching,  _ fixated _ , as Tim teased, before he spread his lips, held them apart with his fingers and could slide his middle finger over his clit. “Pay attention,” Tim said, breathy, as it slid over his clit slowly, favoring the left side slightly. “If you’re going to touch me, you’re going to do it  _ right _ .”

 

Damian nodded, still watching as Tim pulled his damp fingers away. Tim held them out, quirked a brow- and when Damian opened his mouth, he smiled.

 

“Good boy,” he mumbled, sliding them past Damian’s lips, letting him suck at them. His tongue rolled around them, and he felt the vibrations as Damian groaned, before Tim was pulling them out. Damian moved a hand from his thigh, traced his calloused fingers over Tim’s lips exactly as he had, rubbing softly. Tim squirmed, his breath catching, as Damian leaned back in, chose to latch his mouth onto one pert nipple again. Tim arched, and in that moment Damian’s fingers slid past his lips, moved up to his clit. He kept them firmly together as he rubbed, more circular than Tim had, but it was still  _ good _ .

 

Tim swallowed thickly, getting both hands onto Damian’s shoulders just to hold on. He was a quick learner, and Tim was  _ grateful _ for that. His chest almost ached with the attention he was getting- and  _ fuck _ if anyone ever touched him enough there- and his belly was fluttering over the waves of arousal Damian was only making worse.

 

Damian whined suddenly, pulled back only to bury his face in Tim’s chest, pant into his skin as his hips bucked against the cushion again. Tim shivered, couldn’t stop himself, realize that Damian was probably hard as  _ fuck _ and it was his damn fault.

 

He’d turned on the one and only  _ Damian Wayne _ and reduced him to whining.

 

He’d mark it on the damn calendar later.

 

Damian’s fingers slipped open, pinched his clit gently between them and jerked, and Tim  _ wailed _ before he could stop himself. He arched so hard he swore his vertebrae ground together, and Damian pulled back, looked up at him with wide, pretty eyes.

 

“It’s good,” Tim panted, trying to reassure him. “Keep it up and I might-” he paused, swallowed, feeling like his head was beginning to spin. “I might come.”

 

Damian’s eyes lit up, and gods be damned he  _ smiled _ . “Yeah?” he asked, sounding like it was the only thing he’d ever wanted in his life. And Tim, he could appreciate that sort of enthusiasm.  _ Definitely _ .

 

Damian dipped his fingers lower, pushed gently at Tim’s entrance, before he smirked, got this bold look to his eyes. He pulled back, sliding back on the floor and pushing at Tim’s thighs, almost dragging them up. Tim’s legs fell over his shoulders as Damian bent down, and without warning lapped up over Tim’s lips. Tim gasped, eyes going wide, as Damian’s tongue slipped between them, dragged up from his entrance to his clit, before swirling around it.

 

“Fucking-  _ fuck _ .” Tim reached down, buried  _ both _ hands in Damian’s hair. “God, yeah,  _ Damian _ .” He was reduced to single words, was pushing his damn pussy right against Damian’s mouth, trying to grind into him as Damian sucked at his clit, before he licked quickly. His tongue felt like fire, and Tim couldn’t catch his breath, his belly clenching over and over again. His pussy did too, and he almost wished he had something  _ inside _ him, but Damian’s hands on his thighs were what he needed more, loving the way they held so tight he might bruise.

 

He tugged at Damian’s hair, guided his head, his mouth, until his tongue was moving  _ exactly _ how he wanted it too. Tim tried to suck in a breath, before he let out a cry so damn  _ hard _ his throat ached with it, surging up as he came. It was hard, harder than he had come in a damn long time, had him riding Damian’s tongue and pulling his hair until he was sure the kid’s scalp burned with it.

 

When Tim finally began to relax, sinking back into the couch, Damian lifted his head. His eyes were half lidded, his lips and chin smeared wet. Tim smiled over that, reached up, rubbed his thumb along Damian’s lips, moaned when he sucked at it, his tongue swirling around it, cleaning it off. Damian’s hips canted forward again, and Tim chuckled.

 

“Up here,” he managed, unable to form a full sentence. Damian pulled back, climbed up onto the couch and sat next to Tim, the bulge in his unlaced leggings so obvious Tim figured it had to be  _ painful _ .

 

Poor, sweet  _ baby _ .

 

Tim very carefully leaned forward, turning on the couch so he could slip one hand between Damian’s legs, cup him gently. Damian bucked towards his hold, and Tim squeezed, so damn hard Damian whimpered. “I set the pace,” he warned, and if Damian had an argument, he kept it to himself. Tim turned, pressed a kiss just below Damian’s ribs, as his hand slipped into his leggings, rubbed the swell of his cock through his briefs. He kissed down to his navel, before he dragged his tongue through the fine line of dark hair that led to his groin, kept his eyes turned up to watch as Damian tipped his head back, groaning.

 

When he finally pulled Damian’s cock free, he turned to get a good luck. And he swore his cunt went tight over it, had him forcing back a whine because he could picture himself riding Damian on the couch, just like this. Damian’s head tipped back, his breaths coming in quick pants, at Tim’s utter  _ mercy _ .

 

Tim got his hand around Damian’s shaft, giving him a very slow stroke up. He was  _ thick _ , the kind of thick that made TIm’s jaw just ache thinking about the possibilities.

 

He licked his lips, and, taking advantage of the fact that Damian wasn’t watching, stroked down and pulled his foreskin back, letting his tongue lap very gently over the head. Damian gasped, sharp, and Tim giggled, rolled his tongue along it, teased his slit and licked up the precum beading there. He placed a kiss just below his glans, before sucking at his shaft, making Damian squirm, lift his head.

 

“Drake,” he panted, and Tim got his knees firmly on the couch, lifting his ass out of pure  _ reaction _ to the wanton tone of Damian’s voice. He opened his mouth, sucked his cockhead in and hummed, his hand stroking along his shaft. Damian groaned, placed his hand flat on Tim’s back, as if to steady them both. Tim would’ve smiled over it if he could, but he was too busy inching down Damian’s shaft slowly, until half his cock was nestled over his tongue, stretching his mouth.

 

He moved his head slowly with his hand, so sure that if he moved quickly Damian would be gone in fifteen second flat. And he didn’t want that, he wanted to draw this out, wanted to pull Damian apart…

 

The hand on his back slid lower, over his ass, and then Damian was reaching between his legs. He pressed two fingers along Tim’s pussy, made him shiver, before they eased into his body. Tim pulled off his cock, gasping with wet lips and wide eyes, as Damian curled them, began pumping them slowly into his body.

 

“ _ Brat _ ,” Tim breathed, not looking up but swallowing Damian’s cock back down, deciding he could pull Damian apart  _ and _ get him off quick, if he wanted to. Damian groaned, his free hand stroking Tim’s long hair back, his fingers feeling so damn good to Tim’s still aftershock stricken body. Tim sucked harder, moved his head quickly, trying to ignore how he was getting wetter, how Damian was making him want to get off again-

 

“ _ Shit _ ,” Damian mumbled, still being so  _ gentle _ with Tim’s hair. Tim hummed, put his focus into this, into the salty taste of Damian’s cock in his mouth, into  _ getting him off _ . He squeezed, took a little more in, and felt Damian’s hips bucking up. He mewled, this broken little sound that Tim filed away, swore he’d grind into his hand and his bed to the memory of it. He moved quickly, heard Damian panting harder, before he was groaning- the sound tapering out into a keen, a whine, and then a sharp little cry.

 

The flood of cum over his tongue was bitter, hot,  _ thick _ , and Tim tried to swallow it all down. It was hard when Damian’s cock stretched his mouth to wide, and some spilled down his chin as he swallowed again, before he pulled back, gasping in a deep breath. Damian was laying back against the couch, panting, staring up at the ceiling, and his fingers had stilled, but were still inside Tim.

 

Tim pushed himself up onto his knees, reached down and wrapped his hand around Damian’s wrist, guided his hand to move, fucking  _ himself _ with Damian’s fingers. Damian turned his head, looked at him with almost glossy eyes, and Tim held a firm stare.

 

“Fuck me.” It was a  _ command _ , and Damian’s cock, half hard against his belly, twitched, a single remaining bead of cum appearing at the head over it. He moved his hand, began thrusting his fingers back into Tim’s body. Tim released his wrist, fingers moving up to his clit, sliding frantically over it. It wouldn’t take  _ long _ , he knew-

 

Maybe he didn’t want to admit how hot sucking Damian off had made him.

 

Tim bit his lip, his cheeks so flushed the color was spreading down his neck. And Damian was just  _ watching _ him. Those dark glossy eyes and this little smile like he couldn’t bare to look at anything else in this world. Tim shivered, clenched around his fingers, and Damian gave a little groan.

 

“I want to know,” he managed, having to swallow, his tongue lazy and thick in his mouth, fatigued, “how you feel when you come.”

 

Tim gasped, his fingers losing any idea of rhythm, as Damian’s fingers curled gently. By change they hit that sweet bundle of nerves inside him, and Tim gasped, panting out “ _ right there _ ” and shaking as Damian managed to hit it again, to drag his fingerpads over it. Tim let go of his lip, gasping, tossing his head back as he came a second time. His body clenched tight around Damian’s fingers, and Damian let a little groan rumble up from his chest, let Tim ride the waves out until he was pitching to the side, collapsing against the couch.

 

Damian’s fingers slid out of him, and for a moment they both just sit there, too wrecked to even bother moving, speaking. But eventually the chill in the air got to Tim. Eventually he felt like he had enough breath to speak.

 

And all he could do was laugh.

 

It started as a tiny chuckle, morphed into a barely restrained giggle- and then he was turning his face into the couch cushion, full on laughing. His body shook with it, as Damian frowned. “What is so funny?” he asked, almost sounding  _ concerned _ .

 

Tim shook his head, managing to sit up, back on his ankles. He reached up, wiping the tears from his eyes. “Never thought I’d have a night end with you fingering me on my couch, babybat.” Damian flushed, as if the mention of sex was suddenly  _ embarrassing _ despite what had just occurred, and he averted his eyes to the ceiling. Tim reached out, pushed at his shoulder. “Relax. It was a good end to the night.”

 

Damian nodded, swallowed thickly, and said in a whisper, “Most definitely.” Tim still chuckled, shaking his head and leaning forward, pressing a very soft kiss to Damian’s cheek.

 

“Given what just happened,” he offered, “I think I might be willing to share my bed, if you’re interested.” Damian glanced back at him.

 

“So I was good enough to get off the couch?”

 

Tim laughed again, snorting at the end and dropping his head onto Damian’s shoulder. “Oh god you just tried to make a  _ joke _ . This is a dream.” When he finally glanced up Damian was smiling, and  _ that _ was the sort of charming smile he inherited from his father. Far too handsome. Tim almost sighed over it, but held it in, climbed off the couch instead, bending over to pick his underwear up off the floor.

 

He knew Damian was watching. He made a point to do it slowly.

 

“Come on now,” Tim said, heading for his room. “I’m ready for some sleep.”

 

He heard Damian getting up off the couch, fumbling with his leggings enough that he could hurry after. Tim chucked his underwear to the floor, was peeling his tank top off when Damian made his way in. He glanced back, about to climb into the bed.

 

“I’d rather sleep naked after sex,” he said, before he crawled into the bed, tugged the blanket down further. “You can sleep however you want.” Tim stretched out on his side, heard Damian rustling with his clothing. “And hit the light.”

 

He waited until the darkness came. Then he closed his eyes, if only to focus on the way Damian walked across his bedroom, the dip of the bed as he crawled on. He felt him laying down, and for a moment there was no contact at all. Then, that strange ghost touch, where he just  _ knew _ Damian was reaching out, his hand hovering over Tim’s waist.

 

“You can touch,” he whispered, and the hand fell to his waist, traced under the blanket to his hip, resting there. Tim smiled to himself, because Damian seemed almost  _ timid _ . “If you wanna cuddle,” he mumbled, feeling the last of his energy draining from him, “just say so.”

 

And Damian didn’t  _ say _ it, but he did slid right up against Tim’s back, fitting against him shockingly well. He was naked and do damn warm that Tim gave a little moan, tipping his head back, allowing Damian to easily nuzzle his hair. The hand on his hip turned into an arm locked around him, keeping him firmly against Damian’s body.

 

Tim figured he could’ve made a joke about how Damian didn’t seem like the cuddling type- but for just tonight, he held his tongue. After all, the kid had given him exactly what he wanted, he could play nice.

 

And if he was  _ really  _ honest, he was comfortable with Damian around him like this.

 

*

 

Tim woke up to Damian clinging to him tightly- and to the distinct feeling of his cock pressing against his ass. He barely blinked back sleep when he shifted, felt it, and gave a little sleepy groan, unable to stop himself.

 

He didn’t know what time it was, but the window above his bed had faint light streaming in through the gauzy curtains. He yawned, reaching down to squeeze Damian’s hand, pressed flat to his belly. “Hey brat,” he mumbled, and Damian only nestled into his hair, sighed.

 

It was  _ cute _ and Tim wasn’t sure if he loved or loathed it.

 

He pushed back against Damian, purposefully grinding against him, got a groan in response, a buck of Damian’s hips. Tim bit his lip, shifting his legs enough so that when he moved again, Damian’s cock slipped between his thighs, rubbed along his pussy.

 

He shivered, felt Damian exhale into his hair, the arm around him tightening. “Drake,” he mumbled, hips pushing closer slowly, dragging along Tim and making him ache. He was used to waking up and wanting to  _ get off _ , but this felt almost ridiculous. And yet-

 

Damian’s hips bucked a little harder, and he nearly pushed into Tim. Tim gave a little cry, before he was turning, quickly pushing Damian down, onto his back. He crawled onto him, straddled his waist and got his hands on his shoulders, firmly holding him down as Damian stared up, wide eyed.

 

“I’ll ask once,” Tim said, hair falling over his shoulders. “Wanna fuck?”

 

The look in Damian’s eyes told Tim he was stupid for asking. Tim grinned, leaned down, pressed a wet and lazy kiss to Damian’s mouth, his tongue languidly pushing past his lips. Damian’s hands got on his back, fingers dragging down his back slowly, trying to pull Tim even closer. Tim sighed, nipped at his lip before Damian’s tongue chased him away, reveled in the slow wet sounds they made together.

 

And when he couldn’t take it, when Tim needed so badly he couldn’t stand it, he pushed up, leaned over towards his nightstand and let Damian’s hands on his hips steady him. He got it open, fished around for the box inside and pulled a condom out, dropping the box on top of the nightstand before settling back. He reached behind him with his free hand, wrapped it around Damian’s achingly hard cock and gave him a slow stroke up. Damian shivered, mouth falling open, and for once Tim was  _ okay _ foregoing the foreplay and diving right in.

 

He ripped open the condom, left the wrapper to get lost in his blanket, and reached back, managed to roll it down Damian’s cock. When it was snuggly in place, Tim kept his fist firmly around the base, lifting himself up before sliding down onto him. He tipped his head back, mouth falling open in silent bliss as Damian stretched him perfectly, fit like he was  _ meant _ to be there.

 

Tim didn’t wait, he lifted himself up, drove down hard. Damian groaned, lay there watching him, watching Tim ride him ad look fucking  _ perfect _ with each toss of his head, with the way his hair would fall into his face between motions. Looked at Tim like he saw a god, and Tim had never felt hotter in his life.

 

Damian’s hands squeezed his thighs, pulled, and Tim let himself topple forward. His hands went back to Damian’s shoulders, squeezing, keeping him down and reminding him who had the control. Damian bucked over that, clutched his hands on Tim’s hips and drove up into his body,  _ hard _ .

 

Tim gasped, couldn’t seem to find his voice. He ached over it, knew he would feel this all day, deep inside his body. And god, he looked forward to it. He bit his lip, before bowing his head, kissing Damian again. It was rhythmless, messy, only added to the sounds of skin on skin and just how  _ wet _ Tim was. He moaned into it, and Damian whimpered back, before he was rolling them.

 

Tim fell to his back, Damian’s weight against him, as Damian nuzzled his neck, desperately moved his hips. “Up,” Tim gasped out, one hand clutching at his shoulder. Damian pushed himself up, onto his hands, before he got his knees in the bed, reared back and grasped Tim’s thighs, jerking them open so he could get deeper inside him.

 

Tim took advantage of it, reached down to rub his fingers over himself, hiccuping a breath because he was so close  _ already _ . Because morings left him worked up and having Damian  _ there _ was like a blessing. He moved quickly, fingers desperate, as Damian bowed his head, watching him as his hips rocked quickly, his body flush to Tim each time.

 

He swore there wasn’t a nerve inside his body Damian wasn’t touching, wasn’t a single spot on his body that wasn’t alert and wanting. With his free hand he reached for his chest, squeezed one breast and drug his nipple into his palm, groaning as his nails nearly dug into the skin. Damian whined, his eyelids fluttering, and Tim swore he could feel his cock pulse, feel how close he was.

 

“Drake,” Damian gasped, and then, after a shiver, a broken, “ _ T-im _ .” Tim was gone then, arching so high and hard his spine hurt with it, body grasping tightly at Damian’s cock over and over again as he came. His fingers never stopped, pushing him through it until he was dizzy, until it was so good it  _ hurt _ \- and then falling back to the bed, just as Damian dropped over ihm, caught himself on one hand and kissed him with bruising force as his hips stuttered, rhythm lost.

 

He was coming and Tim was whining, clawing at him, frantic, wanting Damian’s pleasure. Wanting every bit of this seared into his memory, wanting this kid to know who made him feel like this. Wanting Damian to come back for more.

 

When Damian’s hips stilled, the kiss slowed. Slowed until it was affectionate, until Tim realized that  _ yes _ , he ached already, even with Damian still inside him- but there was an ache in his chest too, an affection. He closed his eyes, ran his fingers back through Damian’s hair, pulled off his mouth to kiss his chin, his throat.

 

He almost wanted to ask him to stay. As if Damian was going to disappear that moment, and Tim could stop it with just a simple request. But it clogged his throat and left him choking, and instead he accepted the way Damian stretched out next to him, when he pulled out. Accepted the way they could snuggle right up together, and Damian could run his talented fingers over his arms, his back, his sides, like he was mapping Tim out.

 

Tim let it drag out, until he couldn’t stand it, couldn’t stand feeling so trapped in this unspoken intimacy. He pulled away, sat up and attempted to tame his hair. “I’m going to make coffee,” he said, getting up and hunting for his discarded underwear and tank top from last night. He dressed, didn’t say another word, just headed out for the kitchen.

 

He took solace in the methodic way he made coffee. Each movement around his kitchen, the sounds of the bag opening, his machine. He never measured with anything except his eyes, but even that was something to focus on, staring longer than need be as if he was trying to memorize the texture.

 

This hadn’t been the plan- well,  _ none _ of it had been. But he hadn’t meant to feel almost giddy, with how Damian kissed him. Smitten with how he  _ looked _ at him.

 

Tim fisted his hand, slammed it down on the counter. Sex was  _ sex _ and that was fine and Damian was gorgeous and-

 

The thoughts cut off because he heard Damian. Heard his bedroom door, and when he looked back Damian was standing in his kitchen in his  _ briefs _ . Tim paused, getting such a good look at him it felt like a crime.

 

“Do you need a hand?” he asked. “I can make breakfast.”

 

This was right out of some cheesy chick flick, and Tim couldn’t  _ hate it _ no matter how he tried. He shrugged a shoulder, turning back to the machine, as if he needed to watch it work. He heard Damian crossing the kitchen, and then felt his hands, sliding along his waist, before they were around him.

 

Instead of nuzzling his hair, however, Damian rested his chin right atop Tim’s head. Tim huffed, felt the younger and yet  _ stupidly taller _ man chuckle, and reached down to swat as his hand. “Ass,” he mumbled, but he didn’t ask him to move. And when Damian did, it was to kiss Tim’s hair. “Never would’ve pegged you as the affectionate morning after guy.”

 

“Tell anyone and I will end you.” The threat was absolutely empty, and even if it wasn’t, Tim wouldn’t have been  _ worried _ . He could drop Damian to the floor if he wanted to. So instead he just leaned back heavily, let his weight rest against Damian, enjoyed his heat.

 

When Damian dipped lower, kissed his neck, it was slow. Tim sighed, let his eyes fall shut- and felt one of Damian’s hands on his belly sliding down his tank top. His fingers played with the waistband of his underwear, before they slipped beneath. Tim sighed, reaching for the counter, gripping it tightly as Damian’s fingers pushed past his warm lips, rubbed his clit slowly.

 

Tim was still wet, was still  _ hot _ from the friction. And so damn sensitive he almost told Damian to  _ stop _ \- but something about this was too good. The room smelled like coffee and Damian was so solid and warm behind him, was breathing into his hair, giving him little noises at how  _ pleased _ he was to get to touch Tim again.

 

He squeezed the counter harder, tipping his head down, moaning. His eyelids fluttered, and Tim shivered at how Damian remembered to favor the left side of his clit, how the callouses on his fingers were different and somehow perfectly so.

 

“ _ Damian _ ,” Tim moaned, smiling to himself.

 

And then he heard the keys in the door.

 

He didn’t get to react, was too sluggish from one orgasm and another impending. But the apartment door was opening, and there was a loud, “Baby bird, you up?”

 

Tim choked up, couldn’t breathe- and before Damian would react, Dick was rounding the small protrusion of a wall, into the kitchen.

 

“I grabbed us some serious breakfast,” he said, holding a large bag. He paused, however, catching sight of the two. And Tim knew it took all of  _ half a damn second _ to realize what was happening.

 

The grin that slid along Dick’s face was obscene. He chuckled, shaking his head, turning from them.

 

“Guess I should’ve texted you first,” he said. “Make sure you guys  _ wash your hands _ before you pour the coffee. Extra sugar for me Timmy. And don’t worry, there’s enough food here for Damian too.” Tim heard his footsteps as he walked away, the sounds of the couch groaning as Dick sat down- and  _ god _ he was going to sit there and expect them to just continue?

 

Damian’s hand pulled from his underwear, and Tim sighed, turning around, about to apologize- but Damian was dropping down to his knees,  _ hard _ . He grabbed Tim’s underwear, tugged them down, and had one hand splayed in the curls at his groin, pulling back slightly to make his clit more accessible, for when he leaned in, sealed his mouth over it.

 

“ _ Fuck _ !” Tim yelled, hips bucking forward, as one hand got into Damian’s hair. And, as he heard Dick laughing in the living room, he pulled Damian’s face closer, held him by the firm hold in his hair.

 

And  _ hell _ if Dick wanted to play this game,  _ he’d play _ .


End file.
